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“Ouch! Son of a-!” Romance hissed and pulled his hand back from his work station, quick to inspect a newfound slice on his fingertip where a sizable droplet of blood appeared and rapidly spread to drip towards his palm. The man swore, standing from his chair and abandoning the gemstone pendant he had been carefully- or evidently not so carefully- wrapping in wire.
“Damnit! Now where did I put that first aid kit…” He muttered to himself while rummaging through the storage of his shop. Drawer after drawer, cabinet after cabinet, with each unsuccessful one-handed search Romance’s mutterings became more and more cross as blood continued to drip from his finger. Albeit careful to keep his affected hand at shoulder height and away from his surroundings, a few droplets inevitably found their way to the floor.
“First, bandage…second, mop…third, throwing out those godforsaken pliers…agh where in the world is it?!”
With every storage spot now fruitlessly searched, Romance came to the begrudging conclusion that the moving box containing the first aid kit must have never made it inside, or at least downstairs. More than once this week he had discovered misplaced items despite his careful labeling to track the contents and intended location of each moving box. Earlier he found half of his clothing in the store bathroom, a box of vases in his upstairs bedroom, all of his kitchen plates next to the jewelry display, and a box of assorted ribbons and bows somehow ended up inside his fridge.
Whatever shoddy moving company his landlord had hired would not be getting a good review online, that much was certain. Though he considered maybe it wasn’t worth complaining about. After all, the movers were free as a perk of the contract that made this entire venture possible. It was the deal of a lifetime for small business owners like him- a brand new construction retail space to do with as he sees fit and a place to live in the apartment right upstairs. No commute. No more working out of his kitchen. He finally had a true space for his business separate from his home, even if the only actual separation was the ceiling.
Reflections on his leasing contract aside, Romance shook his head in frustration at the trail of red droplets behind him and the constant stinging from his finger. Man, that was really hurting still! Romance clutched his wounded finger in his other hand, trying to apply some pressure to slow the bleeding. He cursed himself mentally for not doing that first, that might’ve saved him from all the cleaning he’d have to do later. Looking closer at the still-bleeding cut, Romance made his way towards a door to exit his shop, shoving the door with his shoulder to swing it open to head to the exterior stairs out back that would take him up to his apartment-
“Whoa!” A sudden voice made Romance jump.
Panicked blush colored eyes met startled lavender ones peeking through strands of silvered hair mere inches away for only a split second before bodies collided.
The force of the impact sent Romance back into the door jamb of his storefront, white the other party toppled to the sidewalk in a clutter of fallen objects, scattering every which way across the pavement.
“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?” Romance said automatically, attempting to compose himself on his still-wobbling feet. All at once, Romance realized he was not in the alley behind the shops with the apartment access, but accidentally went through the front door of his shop onto the public walkway. In all his frantic searching, he must have turned himself around within his shop and gone out the wrong door, and straight into another person!
“Agh, I think so…” The individual confirms, sitting upright and checking their palms for any signs of scrapes and wounds.
The moment after the adrenaline weakened enough for Romance to get a clear look at what just happened, all of his prior distress twists and morphs, making his heart plummet into his stomach with grim realization.
He recognized the very distinctly colored hair that was brushed and styled forward to obscure the other man’s eyes, reminiscent of cascading blooms of Wisteria flowers in the springtime. He recognized the violet apron embroidered with paw prints running from bottom to top. And all around them scattered across the pavement were plastic bowls adorned with a cartoon rendition of a white bone, and those bowls certainly were not meant for noodles or soups. Those were bowls intended for dogs.
This wasn’t just a passerby, this was the man he had seen two doors down- the one that owned the dog groomer’s shop. This was his neighbor! A fellow shop owner! He recalled the cute artist next door, named Abby, had told him this man's name was Mystery. And Mystery wasn’t alone.
Beside him, quiet as a mouse and making no fuss, was a dog. It stood at attention, leaning to support its fallen owner. Black, white, and gray fur stuck out in fluffy patches along its coat, and Romance noticed the dog had a prominent underbite where its bottom teeth stuck out over its upper lip. But there was one more thing Romance noticed that twisted that knot of guilt and embarrassment in his stomach impossibly tight.
As evident by the neon magenta vest around its back, adorned with large patches stating critical information, that dog was a medical alert service animal. Oh god, did he collide with a service dog as well during his chaotic entrance to this situation gone all wrong?!
“I’m so sorry! Please, let me help clean all of this up!” Romance frantically dropped down to the pavement, quickly gathering all of the scattered dog bowls around him while his mind spiraled into catastrophe. He winced as he grabbed the closest dog bowl and instantly felt the sting from the cut on his finger, still angry as it tried to clot itself closed.
‘Oh he surely hates me, and I’ve not even properly met him! He must think I’m the clumsiest, most careless person! Really, I can’t even twist simple wire around a pendant without messing up. God, imagine if either of them got hurt because of me…’
The thoughts bloomed in his mind, twisting among vines coated in thorns. Each new thought pierced through his knotted stomach, spreading the roots of self-doubt throughout his person and invading every corner inside him.
‘What if others saw me make a fool of myself? No one will want to come to my store now. They’ll whisper about the florist who can’t be bothered to watch where they’re going.’
Romance peeked up through his lashes to covertly assess his surroundings. The strip was mercifully empty, being an inevitable mid-day lull before the late afternoon errand-runners would arrive in waves. But that silver lining was insignificant among the massive thicket of thorned ivy constricting his heart with every beat.
‘Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe this was all too good to be true after all. Maybe I am destined to fail. Maybe-’
Romance’s spiraling came to an abrupt halt by a loud BARK!
Startled, Romance looked up to the person he was avoiding meeting the eyes of- even if those eyes were obscured. Not that he could even try to meet where those eyes were anyways, given that Mystery's face was tilted away, pointed to gaze somewhere down the strip.
BARK!
Romance jumped again at the sudden shrill noise. He watched as the dog whined and used its snout to prod at Mystery's arm. But it did not get any reaction. In fact, the curious neighbor didn’t react in any way to anything. It was as if he were frozen in place, and the dog did not like that one bit.
Oh no.
All of those twisted vines of worry went up in the flames of pure panic.
Romance abandoned the dog bowls and rushed to kneel in front of the unresponsive man. His hands hovered around Mystery's form, unsure if it was okay to even touch him. He awkwardly waved a hand in front of those long lavender bangs, but still nothing.
“Shit…shit shit shit!”
Moving fast, Romance’s head whipped around to call for help, but that prior silver lining turned out to be the final poisoned thorn. There was no one else around.
“What should I do?!”
He looked to the dog, as if the creature would magically answer him. But the dog of course could not speak to him. Instead, the dog curled around itself, turning its nose towards Mystery and prodding at his sides again and again. Romance could tell Mystery was breathing, that was good, right?! But he wasn’t moving, that was definitely bad, right?!
“Should I call an ambulance?! Shit, my phone is inside-”
As Romance began to turn, any further words died on his tongue as a pair of hands poking out of long mauve colored sweater sleeves reached out and gently pulled his flailing hands downwards.
“You’re hurt” A voice murmured from behind pale lavender hair, words spoken as soft as the fabric that brushed against Romance’s wrist.
Momentarily stunned, Romance’s eyes jumped from looking at his hand being so gently examined and up towards the man who had been otherwise unresponsive for the last minute, now appearing perfectly fine. Had he imagined it all?
“I don’t think it’ll need stitches, so that’s good.” Mystery said quietly as if he were just talking to himself.
“What-”
“Here, this should make do for now.” Mystery nodded, perhaps to himself or perhaps to Romance, but he was unsure. Romance didn’t have the chance to inquire about what he meant before a sudden stinging pain washed over his hand. He flinched, trying to pull his hand back but the other man’s delicate grip was also surprisingly firm and kept Romance in place as clean water streamed over his injury, clearing the blood away from the angry red wound there.
Wait, where did he get a bottle of water from? Romance stood perplexed, wordlessly watching as the man holding his bloodied hand hostage then exchanged the bottle of water for bandages of varying sizes from one of his apron’s large pockets.
“If it doesn’t stop bleeding in ten minutes you should probably see a doctor, just in case.”
The whirlwind of events and emotions from the last few minutes was making it impossible for Romance to focus. All he could do was stare with a dumbstruck expression as his finger was methodically cleaned, dried, and bandaged up by this stranger. Even when his hand was released back to his own control, all of the words he had planned to say were gone like leaves in the wind.
A small whine sounded from beside the pair kneeling on the sidewalk. Romance watched as the dog nudged Mystery's hands intently.
“Hm?” Mystery tilted his head down to his companion, pausing for a moment in what appeared to be a slow realization. “Oh… I see… I’m sorry about that…”
“You’re sorry?!” Romance balked. “Don’t you dare apologize! Dear, are you okay?! Do you need me to call a doctor for you?!”
“No, no, I’m fine, I promise!” Mystery made a motion to stand, but his movements were slightly uncoordinated, hands reaching for the handle on his dog’s harness but not quite grasping it well enough.
“Please, let me help you up!” Romance offered his hands, but they were not accepted.
“Could you bring over one of those chairs?” Mystery signaled with a tilt of his head down the strip to where some seating had been set up in front of the cafe and bakery.
Romance was there and back in an instant, hauling one of the cheap metal chairs with ease. Once placed, he watched as the dog sprung into action, using its bodyweight to help stabilize Mystery as he lifted himself to sit upon the chair. Romance remained kneeled on the sidewalk in front of the pair, immensely relieved that everyone seemed okay but feeling incredibly useless on top of it all.
Oh! The dog bowls!
Romance turned, gathering up the forgotten bowls and stacking them neatly into a nested tower and bringing them back to Mystery. He could try to do one thing right today, at least. One tiny infantesimal thing within a landslide of things gone so terribly wrong. One small favor that most certainly would not make up for anything at all, but he could try.
“You can keep one, if you’d like.” Mystery’s soft spoken tenor breached through the never ending worries looping within Romance’s mind.
Romance looked down as Mystery took all but one dog bowl from his hands, leaving one behind. Confused, he looked back up for explanation, for he had no dog in which to give water to.
“You don’t have to.” Mystery’s fingertips fidgeted around the stack of bowls in his hands. “Just thought it’d be nice to set some water out along the strip.” He motioned with his head behind himself towards the other storefronts where identical dog bowls had been sparsely set out and filled with fresh water.
“Oh, I’d love to put one out here!” Romance gripped the dog bowl in his hands, pulling it to his chest as if the object were suddenly his most precious possession. It was the least he could do, after all.
“That’s great!” The kind smile coming from Mystery did nothing but make the gnawing guilt of the whole interaction bore even deeper into Romance’s gut.
“If I may sound like a broken record, I am truly sorry for all this mess. The fault was my own, and I can’t imagine what I would do if it had turned out worse.”
“No harm, no foul.” Mystery nodded, appreciative of both the apology and the taken dog bowl. “How did you get hurt?”
“I’d blame a defective pair of pliers, but I think it was more akin to, ahem, user error.” Romance flushed, still embarrassed at the whole situation. “I’d probably have bled all over the sidewalk if it weren’t for you and I can’t imagine that would have been good for business!”
Romance felt his conscience grow lighter as Mystery gave a soft chuckle at his attempted humor. Bolstered by the premise of undoing all of the mistakes of this interaction, he was filled with hope that all was not lost on a good first impression.
“I’ll be sure to start stocking bandages in my apron as well,” Romance continued, “once I find where my first aid kit disappeared to, of course! I fear it may have been lost in the move…”
“Well if it is lost, feel free to come by my place. I have plenty to spare.” Mystery offered, making a display of reaching into his apron pockets with one hand and showing the sizable stockpile of first aid items tucked away there.
“Oh?” Humor morphed into concern. “Do the dogs you groom scratch you often?” Romance couldn’t see any visible injuries on the man, though there wasn’t much exposed skin to see either way. The oversized sweater sleeves he had felt the softness of earlier left no way of knowing what Mystery’s arms looked like, and the turtleneck he layered underneath hid the skin of his neck from view as well. For all he knew, Mystery could be covered in scratches and bruises. Romance frowned at the thought, unable to imagine a person as sweet as Mystery being so battered.
“No, just prone to accidents is all. Though not as much these days, thankfully. My boy Boogy has helped make sure of that.” Mystery tilted his head down towards his silent companion, reaching to give two quick scritches to the top of the dog’s head with his free hand.
Romance chewed on his lip, watching the well mannered canine, apparently named Boogy, accept attention from his handler. He had nothing against animals. In fact, he often adored them. But he knew better than to make any assumptions with this one. The patches on his vest with big bold letters of “DO NOT PET” made that crystal clear.
“He’s a very handsome boy.” Of course Romance was curious. Who wouldn’t be? But with one too many humiliations today, the side of caution was the side he would stick to.
“He just turned five this year.” Mystery nodded along.
“Does he handle the stairs out back alright?” Romance barely stopped the wince across his features. ‘What a dumb question’, he chastised himself in his mind. ‘Obviously he can handle the stairs, what is wrong with you?’
“You can ask, you know. I don’t mind.”
“I wasn’t- I didn’t-” Romance fumbled over his words, squeezing the dog bowl tighter against his chest. The part of his mind that wanted to ask was equally matched with the part of his mind that wished to forget any of the things that just happened. Above all, he didn’t want to make things worse by being impolite and prying.
“I don’t know what’s okay to ask…” Romance admitted, letting his shoulders fall in defeat.
“The fact that you’re so worried tells me you’re a good person.” Mystery’s smile was endlessly kind, far too kind for what Romance thought he deserved. “Plus, we’re neighbors, so I doubt this will be the last time you’ll see one of my seizures and I’d rather you know.”
“Seizures?!” Romance blurted out, his panic levels rising dangerously fast. And Mystery didn’t want him to call a doctor?!
“It’s okay,” Mystery’s calm voice was reassuring, “I’m okay. I don’t usually convulse or anything like how it is on TV. It usually just looks like I’m spaced out for a minute or two, that’s all.”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“I don’t know.” Mystery shrugged. “I don’t ever remember them. I’ve had them ever since I was a kid. But sometimes I get confused and bump into things or fall, so that’s why I carry bandages and things with me. If Boogy can’t catch me in time, I usually have to patch myself up.”
The explanation helped to bring Romance’s rapidly beating heart rate back down, but not enough to rid his mind of the biggest fear of them all.
“...Did I cause it?” Romance asked quietly, his gaze dropping to the pavement in shame. He couldn’t deny the series of events seemed to point to the obvious. One minute Mystery has been fine, the next he has a seizure, and there was only one thing connecting it- Romance running into him and knocking him over.
“No, that’s on me.” Mystery gave a pained smile. “I know my triggers, and I still tried to do too much today when I should have tried to take it easy.”
“Triggers?” Romance looked up, shocked to find Mystery had tucked some of his hair behind one ear, revealing one of his beautiful lavender colored eyes.
“When you live with a disability like this for so long, you have to learn what kinds of things make them happen more often. Like sometimes bright lights can set them off for me, so I try to keep light out of my eyes.”
Romance nodded, listening intently as Mystery continued to talk.
“Everything has been so busy with the move and setting up the shop, and I had to get a new mattress so I haven’t been sleeping all that well, which makes them happen more often. And I haven’t had a chance to hop on the bus and go to the hardware store to get new lights, either. I asked the landlord ahead of time if he could put in LED lights instead of fluorescent but I guess maybe he forgot…”
“What?! That’s awful!” Romance frowned.
Mystery simply shrugged, which made Romance’s frown deepen even more. This man was accepting the risk of making his medical condition worsen when the landlord could have taken two seconds to change out simple light bulbs! Suddenly his own misplaced moving boxes felt like an inconsequential thing to get so worked up about. Hopefully his other neighbors weren’t experiencing similar troubles…
“Anyways, I’d better get back. I have a client coming soon, don’t want them to walk into an empty shop!” Mystery moved to rise from his chair.
Romance held his breath for a moment, only letting himself exhale in relief when he saw Mystery was stable on his feet once more, not even using his service dog for support. In all senses of the word, Mystery truly appeared to be completely fine. As Mystery returned to his storefront, he paused to turn back. He offered a polite smile back to Romance, still glued to his spot on the sidewalk, dog bowl clutched tightly in his arms.
“I’m Mystery, by the way. I didn’t catch your name.” Mystery called over.
“Romance.” The pink haired florist responded instantly. “My name is Romance.”
“Well Romance, I’ll see you around.” Mystery nodded, smiling wider as he disappeared into his store.
The very next morning, Mystery opened the door out of his apartment to find a cardboard box waiting for him there with a folded note on top. He knelt down, plucking the paper free and reading the words written down in flowy penmanship.
‘If these aren’t the right ones, just let me know and I’ll exchange them.
Sorry again, and I hope we can get to know each other more.
-R❀’
Mystery opened the box, surprised to find it filled with various sizes of different light bulbs, each and every one LED. And after carrying the box of lights down to his shop, Mystery noticed all of the dog bowls along the strip were somehow already filled with fresh water, despite there being no rainfall overnight.
He smiled, reading over the handwritten note one more time, deciding he wished to get to know the kind, albeit a little manic, florist two doors down better as well.